Marjorie Bowen

“ Jacobea's voice was agitated. "I have no credence in those things. I will pay you to show me the way out of the forest."
But the witch had crossed softly to her side, and, to her manifest shrinking terror, caught hold of her hand. "What do you imagine you hold in your palm?" she smiled.
Jacobea endeavoured to draw her hand away, the near presence of the woman quickened her unnamed terror.
"Lands and castles," said the witch, while her fingers tightened on the striving wrist. "Gold and loneliness——"
"You know me," answered Jacobea, in anger. "There is no magic in this ... let me go!" ”

“ The witch dropped the lady's hand and smoothed her own together. "I do not need the lines in your palm to tell me your fortune," she said sharply. "I know more of you than you would care to hear, Jacobea of Martzburg."
The lady turned away and stepped quickly but aimlessly down the shaded glade. Nathalie, dragging her brown cloak, came lightly after.
"You cannot escape," she said. "You may walk in and out the trees until you die of weariness, yet never find your way to Frankfort." ”

“ Jacobea did not stir; she shook the hand Nathalie had held and caressed it with the other.
The young man put back his heavy hair. "Do you know me?"
She slowly turned her face, pearl pale above the glowing colour of her dress. "Yes, you came to my castle for shelter once."
Dirk did not lower his intense, ardent gaze. "Well, how did I reward your courtesy? I told you something." She would not answer.
"I told you something," repeated Dirk. "And you have not forgotten it."
"Let me go," she said. "I do not know who you are nor what you mean. Let me go." ”

“ This calm and carefully ordered speech gave her time to gather courage; she fumbled at her bosom, drew forth a crucifix and clutched it to her lips with a murmur of passionate prayers. He could not but notice this; he must perceive her soiled torn dress, her wild face, her white exhaustion, but he gave no sign of it.
"It was a fortunate chance that sent me here," he said gravely. "The wood is so vast——"
"Ay, so vast," she answered. "Know you the way out, Sebastian?" ”

“ But Dirk continued ruthlessly: "He waits, I tell you——"
"Oh God, for what?" she cried.
"For you to say—'You think me fair, Sebastian, you know me rich and all my life shall prove me loving, and only a red-browed woman in Martzburg Castle prevents you coming from my footstool to my side'—said you that, he would take horse to-morrow for Martzburg and return a free man."
The handkerchief fell from Jacobea's fingers and fluttered on the dark ferns. "You are a fiend," she said in a sick voice. ”

“ Now he could open the rich garments. They were empty of all save dust. The strange strong perfume was stinging and numbing his brain, his heart; he thought he heard the fiends coming for his soul—at last. He hid his face in the purple silk robes and felt his blood grow cold. ”

“ She stiffened with dread and pride. "Ye are some evil thing," she said; her glance was fierce for the passive witch. "Why was I brought here?"
"Because it was my wish," answered Dirk gravely. "Your horse does not often carry you away, Jacobea of Martzburg, and leave you in a trackless forest."
The lady started at his knowledge. ”

“ But he must know. He lifted up the fair crowned head to peer madly into the proud features.... It came away in his hands, like crumbling wood that may preserve, till touched, the semblance of the carving ... so the Pope's head parted from the trunk. Theirry smiled with horror and stared at what he held. Then it disappeared, fell into ashes before his eyes, and the tiara rolled on to the floor. Gone—like an image of smoke. He sank across the headless thing on the bed. ”

“ She hesitated; if he had encountered neither the woman nor the young man, then they were indeed wizards or of some unearthly race—she could not bring herself to speak of them.
"No," she answered at length. ”

“ He read the fair writing.
"If I be a devil I go whence I came, if a man I lived as one and die as one, if woman I have known Love, conquered it and by it have been vanquished. Whatsoever I am, I perish on the heights, but I do not descend from them. I have known things in their fulness and will not stay to taste the dregs. So, to you greeting, and not for long farewell."
The letter fell from Theirry's hand, fluttered and sank to the floor.
He raised his eyes and saw through the window the meteor, blazing over Rome. Dead.... ”